Snakes and ladders

Eighty-Seven

With the conversation with the Czech police inspector finished, Striker hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. He thought of the Osterma

Dr Erich Osterma

As for Dalia and Gabriel, they had been oddballs from the start. Lexa was the one who had surprised Striker the most. When he had first met her, she had come across as the beautiful, trapped wife of a powerful and dangerous man. Striker had found himself wanting to help her, intrigued by her charms. He now found it frustrating to see how easily she had played him.

And he looked forward to capturing her.

He was deep in thought on this matter when his cell phone went off with a text message. He picked up the cell and looked at the screen. What he saw made his heart clinch. There was a message. From Larisa.

From: Logan, Larisa

Subject: Lost

The message was brief, to the point, and the underlying sense of panic was unmistakable:

I’m not going back to the hospital. Not ever. But I’m afraid, Jacob. I think someone’s been watching me. This morning. A woman with dark eyes. She felt very . . . off. Everywhere I turned, she was there. And I’m scared. Part of me just wants to end it all. I don’t know what I should do . . . I want to trust you, but . . .

The message ended there, and it tugged at Striker’s heartstrings. Here was the woman who had been there for him during his darkest hours, and when hers had come, he had fallen way short of doing anything remotely helpful. He looked at the message details. It had been sent only two minutes ago.

Quickly, he typed back:

Larisa, wait! Where are you?

He waited for a long moment, but received no response. Bad thoughts flickered through his mind as he thought over her description.

A woman. With dark eyes.

Striker got on the phone with Bell, his service provider. He gave them his badge number and position, his phone number, and told them to trace the text sender. The technician was resistant at first, and Striker lost his temper.

‘This is a matter of life and death,’ he explained. ‘I know your company policy – I’ve done this a hundred times. Now trace the goddam call and tell me where it’s coming from. Or if anything happens to this woman, I’ll be sure to hold you criminally responsible. Not the goddam company, but you.’

The clerk made an uncomfortable sound, then asked him to hold. Seconds later, he came back on the line. ‘The text is coming from the Whistler Blackcomb area,’ he said. ‘Any closer than that, I can’t give you.’

‘Can’t, or won’t?’

‘Can’t. It doesn’t show up as anything more specific than that.’

Striker cursed. He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and went over his options. Whistler Blackcomb was a twomountain ski resort a hundred kilometres from the downtown core, which translated into roughly a two-hour drive.

An hour fifteen, if he needed it to be.

By population, the resort was the largest in North America. Normal population ranged from a steady flow of ten to fifteen thousand, but with the post-Christmas ski season set to begin, the two main resorts were overflowing with triple that number. Not to mention the numerous villages that clustered in pods around the outer perimeter. Looking for someone there would be like finding the proverbial needle in the haystack.

He cursed out loud. Thoughts of alerting the other police jurisdictions flickered through his mind, but he wiped them away when he recalled the last fiasco with Bernard Hamilton of Car 87 at the coffee shop in Metrotown. If Larisa felt he had tried to trick her again, she would run. And that was something he just couldn’t risk.

There was no other option.

He dialled Felicia. She picked up on the first ring.

‘Lonely Man’s Hotline.’

Normally the comment would have brought a smile to his lips. Not today. ‘Where are you?’ he said.

‘Heading back from Burnaby,’ she said. ‘Should be less than five minutes. I got the report on Gabriel.’

‘Good. You can read it over and explain the whole story to me when we’re on our road trip.’

‘Road trip? To where?’

‘Whistler Mountain,’ Striker said. ‘We’re going after Larisa.’

Eighty-Eight

How long it took for the feeling to return to his legs, the Adder had no clue. Time, as always, was unimportant to him. At first, there was only numbness below his waist, and then slowly, constantly, the feeling came. The pain grew. And with it came mobility. By the time he heard the front door open and close once more – the sign that the Doctor had again returned – he was finally able to stand.

Only then did he realize he was still completely naked. All his clothes were outside by the lake.

He moved from the den and the roaring gas fire back into the kitchen, where the Doctor was making herself a second cup of green tea. She kept her eyes straight ahead and did not so much as glance at him when he entered.

‘You’re going after the girl,’ she said.

‘The girl?’

‘Larisa Logan.’

The words made him pause. ‘She does not matter.’

The Doctor’s reply was terse. ‘Do not think, Gabriel. Listen. And follow orders.’

He said nothing, he just nodded slowly, and the Doctor continued.

‘Larisa Logan is the only person that can co

‘But the police already know.’

‘Proof and knowing are different matters.’ The Doctor laughed out loud. ‘Besides, they have to find us first, Gabriel. It’s time for a new look for this family. A new identity that can never be traced – which is why I took the other DVDs. Your DVDs. They are more evidence co

A strange sickness hit his stomach. ‘My DVDs—’

‘They are destroyed, Gabriel. And you will make no more of them. Do you understand me? You will make no more.’

‘I will make no more,’ he said softly.

‘Good. Then we are understood. Now go get your clothes and get some rest and leave me be for a while. I have much to go over, much to plan. You have caused me quite a bit of work.’ She took her cup and walked into the den.

The Adder watched her go. When she had disappeared from view, he opened the sliding glass door. Outside, the sky was greying over, darkening.

It made the lake look like charcoal.

He turned his eyes away from it and walked down the porch steps. When he reached the edge of the lake ice, he grabbed his clothes. On his way back to the cabin, he knelt by the steps, retrieved his disc – his beloved Disc 1 – and tucked it in between his folded pants and shirt.

Then he returned inside the cabin. He made his way up the stairs to the second floor. At the top, Dalia was waiting for him. Her eyes were wide and hollow, and wet with tears, as if ready to cry. She tried to speak to him, but nothing came out, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

The Adder did not respond. He brushed gently past her, into her room, and picked up her laptop.

Dalia took in a deep breath. ‘Gabriel, no,’ she whispered.

But he did not listen.

He took the laptop with him and headed for his room. Once inside, he shut the door and made his way into the closet. He closed the doors behind him, powered on the computer and logged on.